


Me’copaani / Ner copaanir

by Maggie_GoldenStar1530



Series: Dar'Manda [4]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, F/M, Healing Sex, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Quickies, Shower Sex, Vaginal Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, forearms, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23832538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggie_GoldenStar1530/pseuds/Maggie_GoldenStar1530
Summary: Cuan asks Teryn what she wants. A lot. She wants him. A lot.What happens during fade-to-blacks during Dar'Manda.(Thank you to Different_Frequency and LittleLuna0304 for encouraging me to post this)
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Dar'Manda [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636489
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teryn and Cuan bang for the first time. And the second. 
> 
> Takes place during chapter 12 of Dar'buy'ce.

She was about to go to sleep when he knocked. It had been a long...well, more than a day, it had been a long several years, and the past several weeks had just been non-stop. 

Cuan politely kept his helmet on when around everyone else, but had gotten into the habit of taking it off on the rare occasions when they were alone and unlikely to be surprised. (She was pretty sure the Covert knew about that, simply because everyone knew everything.)

This time, however, he kept it on. 

“Can I come in?”

She frowned in confusion, but opened the door enough for him to come in. He stepped in, and shut the door. He looked at her, head slightly tilted, and he began to remove his gloves.

“I thought… I have a feeling no one has asked you about what you want, lately.”

“What I… want?” 

“Yes. I would like to make you feel good. Do you want to feel good?” He put his gloves down, and removed his vambraces, as well. 

She frowned more, staring as he pushed his sleeves up. “...what?” Stars, forearms were sexy. 

He stepped closer to her, and pulled the long single braid in front of her shoulder and began to unplait it. “I will stop if you want me to.”

She froze, almost mesmerized as his fingers combed through her hair. He made a sound like a smile behind his helmet, and stepped behind her. 

“There’s nothing between you and the door.” He ran both hands down her arms and to her hands, and put her left hand on top of his, entwining their fingers. “If you want me to stop, at any point, let go of this hand. Okay?” He could also see her in the mirror next to the door- not only could he see if she was enjoying herself, it would also be hot as hell. 

She nodded, slightly breathless. 

“I won’t touch your face, or throat. Is there anything else I should avoid?”

She shook her head. 

“Okay. You can move my right hand if you want to.” He lightly rested the front of his helmet on that back of her head, and very gently began to touch her stomach above her shirt. She tensed slightly first, then relaxed. It was hypnotic. 

“May I touch your skin?”

“Yes.” 

He slowly slid his hand underneath her shirt, letting his fingertips just skim the surface. Her muscles rippled and he stopped. 

“Ticklish.” She put her hand on his and increased the pressure. He made a quiet chuckle and continued to rub in gentle circles. She kept her hand on his- not directing, just along for the ride. He skimmed along her ribs and she sighed and relaxed back into him. 

He’d never seen her face so relaxed, and hopefully, he was just getting started. 

She pulled his hand up to a breast, and he squeezed gently. She let out a silent moan, and he sighed, massaging it, rolling the hard nipple between their fingers. She gripped his left hand as their rights hands drifted over to the other breast, and she arched her back into his touch.

“You like this.”

“Yes.” She breathed, letting out a soft whimper as he pinched a nipple. He smiled at the sight of her in the mirror, and his hand drifted up her breastbone. She tensed, and he immediately brought his hand back down. 

“Sorry, mesh’la.”

Another circle of her breasts and another soft whimper, and he left his hand drop toward the waistband of her soft pants. “May I?” 

“Yes.” 

He skimmed his fingers down to her mound, over the pants. She shifted her stance to widen her legs, and he nuzzled the back of her head. “Good.” He pushed their hands further between her legs, stroking her slit. 

“I can feel that you’re wet.” He rubbed harder. “Can I feel how wet?”

She panted. “ _Yes._ ”

He slid his hand beneath her waistband- she kept hers on his forearm, gripping (stars, _forearms_ ) and he dipped into her folds. “So wet,” he breathed. As his fingers touched her clit, she arched back, head sliding down to his shoulder. He growled quietly in her ear. “So wet. So ready.” 

She whimpered again, and brought his left hand up to hold her just beneath her breasts. He rubbed her clit lightly, and smiled as she rolled her hips for more contact.

“You’re going to explode. Just from this.”

“Yes, please…”

“Let go, mesh’la. Let it all go, I've got you…”

She gripped his hand and his forearm and arched on her toes as waves of pleasure crashed through her body, swallowing the moans. He continued to play in her folds until orgasm subsided, and she sank, boneless against him. He smiled at the sight of her, relaxed, fully against him, head thrown back.

“Was that good, cyar’ika?”

She sighed, contentedly. “Yes.”

He slowly pulled his hand back from between her legs. “Will you sleep better, now?”

She turned her head slightly, to look at him. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, not tonight, cyar’ika.” He ran his fingers through her hair again- the closest to a face caress she was capable of allowing. “This was for you.”

“But what do you _want_?”

“Eventually, I want to fuck you until you can’t remember your name.” Her breath hitched, and he chuckled. “Tonight, I want you to go to sleep, and sleep until you wake up.” He nuzzled the side of her head and gently led her over to her bed. “Sleep, mesh’la. We can talk in the morning.” 

He tucked her in, making one last caress of her hair, and she smiled, eyes already closing. “Vor entye.” 

“Ke nuhoy, cyar’ika.” 

  
  


“Eventually, I want to fuck you until you can’t remember your name.” 

That sentence echoed through her dreams. Pleasant dreams, not nightmares, but she woke up panting and _wanting_ and for stars’ sake, how was she supposed to get through a day like this? 

“What do you want, mesh’la?” Well. If that was on offer… she kinda wanted that. 

But first, first she had to get through breakfast without everything showing on her face. Fuck, those forearms were just out there, and she knew about them. 

She got up, and got dressed, and took a deep breath before heading out. This was ridiculous. It was just an orgasm, for fuck’s sake. (Except, a traitorous voice whispered in her head, that he held you like you were something precious and wanted you to feel safe when he knew you hadn’t felt safe in a really long time. That wasn’t _just_ an orgasm.) 

Getting breakfast was an agony. While he didn’t point his helmet at her, and gave her space (her body was just resonating, and she wasn’t sure what to do with these sensations or feelings), she could tell he was looking out of the corner of his eye. She could just tell. She spent the morning in the med bay- the Foundlings discovered a new game of keep away with the oldest one’s helmet, and it got _intense_ \- but she took her lunch in her room, giving him a _look_ as she passed him. 

She had her boots off when he knocked, and was working on her knee cops when he came in. 

“I want…” she didn’t even have the words out before he pulled off his gloves, and she stood up, letting the battle skirt drop to the floor. 

“Me’copaani, mesh’la?” 

“Ner copaanir…” she reached for his belt, focusing on keeping her fingers from trembling so she could work the damn buckles. He inhaled sharply, undoing her own pants and shoving them down roughly. 

“Remember how to get me to stop…” he said unevenly. 

“Don’t you fucking dare….” His fingers slipped into her folds and she bit back a moan.

“Har’shaak, you’re dripping.”

“All fucking morning...woke up like this.” She yanked desperately at his own pants. “Couldn’t.. _Focus_.”

He stepped down on her pants to free one leg, and pushed her against the wall. “Gods you are so ready.” He carefully threaded one hand into her hair at the back of her skull, and hooked one leg over his hip, positioning his cock at her entrance. “Me’copaani, LaarSenaar?”

“Ger, gedet’ye. Gedet’ye…”

He thrust his hips, sheathing himself in one move and she reached up and gripped his helmet, whimpering. He stopped, breathing hard. They stood, against the wall, and he pulled his head back so he could look at her as he began to thrust, slowly, surely. She made a soft moan, rolling her hips in time with his. 

It seemed like they did that forever, as her whimpers and whines got more and more ragged, and he grunted with each thrust. He increased his pace, inexorably, and her head fell forward into his shoulder, whimpers becoming moans. He put the hand that wasn’t holding her head against the wall for more leverage.

He thrust harder and more unevenly and she shoved part of his cape in her mouth to muffle the indecent sounds coming from her mouth as she exploded around his cock, pulling him in deeper, and triggering his own release, pouring into her body, swearing in multiple languages. 

They slumped back against the wall, panting. She slid a hand underneath his helmet to cup his jaw, and he nuzzled her along the side of her head, hand still holding the back her head. 

“Is that what you wanted, Cyar’ika?”

She nodded, feeling both shy and fulfilled. “Although…”

“Hmmm?”

“I can still remember my name.” His hand tightened in her hair. “You’re just gonna have to come back tonight and try again.” 

He did come back. After almost everyone had gone to bed, he slipped into her room. “You’re not near everyone else.”

“I think she did that on purpose so my presence wouldn’t disturb the others. Or they wouldn’t disturb me.”

“Well.” He said, removing his helmet. “In this case…” He looked her up and down, hungry. “In this case, you won’t be disturbing them.” 

Excitement pooled in her belly- the hurried, frantic fuck against the wall had been welcome, and necessary, and great, but not nearly enough. He’d seen the scars, but almost nothing else; she’d seen _nothing_ but those godsdamned forearms, and gods, did she want his smart fucking mouth on her. 

Like, _everywhere._

She had taken off her armor already, and put it away. She’d even, thinking it was silly, showered and washed and maybe, just maybe, done a bit of primping. And maybe she was just wrapped in a large towel. 

It didn’t seem quite so silly when he pulled off his gloves and buried his fingers into her hair at her temples so he could put his forehead just at the top of her head. He was breathing heavily, and she put her hands on his, stroking the backs of his hands gently. 

“What do you want?” she asked, voice shaking slightly.

“You. Naked, in bed.” He moved his mouth down to the curve of her neck, licking, nipping. “Spread out so I can feast on you.” 

She whimpered, and started pulling at his armor. He chuckled, and started unbuckling, unfastening, and unzipping as fast as he could, until he stood in just his underwear. She swallowed, looking at him. The idea of sex with a Mandalorian without his helmet was something she needed to get used to... though clearly he wasn't adverse to the idea of fucking with his helmet on, as well. It was just... another new thing. 

The promise of the forearms bore out. Trim, muscled, with the scattering of scars one expects on a warrior, and on his chest he had a tattoo of a loth wolf. She reached out and skimmed her fingertips across it, and he inhaled sharply. 

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, using his other hand to lightly stroke the column of her throat. “How do you get me to stop?”

She swallowed. “Atin.” 

His hand went down her collarbone, and traced an old scar. “One day we’ll trade scar stories.” His fingers hooked at the top of the towel. “One day.” He pulled the towel away and let it fall to the floor. 

She swallowed again, and almost tried cover herself with the hand he wasn’t still holding captive, but he gave her a hungry and forbidding look, and she stopped. He stroked one breast, avoiding the already hard nipple. “I’ve been thinking about what these looked like for days.” He only barely grazed a nipple with his thumb, and she whimpered. 

He continued to tease and torment her breasts with just his fingertips, until she was writhing and panting. “Please… please…”

“Please what, ner Senaar’ika?” 

“Just fucking… gods.” 

“What do you want?” His touch got somehow, impossibly lighter. 

“I need…” her thought devolved into an inarticulate whine as he grazed her nipple again. 

“Show me.” She put a hand on the back of his head and dragged it down to her breasts, so he could reach them with his mouth. He chuckled, and obligingly sucked on a nipple, laving it with his tongue, and she moaned. 

He pushed back, slowly, but unerringly to the bed. She fell back into it and he looked down at her, a smile playing along his mouth. She raised herself up on her elbows, breasts thrusting up, and looked up at him. “Now what are you going to do?”

He pushed down his underwear, freeing his cock, and she inhaled. It’s not like there was any worry about fit- it already had- but believing is one thing. Seeing is quite another. “Fuck.” Teryn whispered.

“That’s the idea.” He knelt down on the bed, hovering over her, arms on either side of her head. He saw her eyes widen slightly, and he very gently kissed the top of her hairline. “I know. I won’t, don’t worry, cyar’ika.” He moved down so he could kiss and lick the side of her neck, and dragged one hand slowly, but firmly down her body until it rested on her mound. 

“Still wet for me?” He slipped his fingers in, circling her clit. 

“Yes, yes, fuck yes.” she arched up, trying to create more friction, more pressure, just _more_. He pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw and pushed one finger into her. She groaned as he continued to lightly play with her clit and moved the finger in and out, slowly, lightly.

“Should I tell you what I want?” How the fuck could he be so coherent, she thought, as he pushed in a second finger. “I want to taste you until you try to crush me with your legs, and then fall apart. I want to sink balls deep into you and ride you until you shatter around my cock.” He curled both fingers inside and pushed on her clit at the same time, and she just exploded, body arching back as she let out a moan, and her walls fluttered and gripped around his fingers. 

He pulled back and watched her come down, his hand still lightly playing with her cunt. “Mesh’la.” He sighed. “You are so beautiful when you come.”

She blushed and turned her face away, closing her eyes. He reached to turn it back, and stopped himself just in time. _Thank the stars she didn’t see that._ “No, no, mesh’la, ner cyar’ika.” he ran his fingers down the entire length of a lock her hair. “No, don’t hide yourself.” 

She looked back at him, and he smiled, bringing the hand from between her legs up to his mouth and licked his fingers. “Sweet. Like uj’ayl.” She whimpered, and he grinned, wolfishly. “Gotta taste it at the source, though.” He leaned down, and started kissing and licking and nipping his way down her body, starting at the hollow of her throat. 

She threaded her fingers in his hair, dimly realizing that this was the first time she’d touched his hair- he caressed hers all the time, from digging his whole hand in at the roots, or lightly tracing the pattern of a braid, or pulling his fingers down the entire length. But she’d never touched his. 

He paused to give her breasts some extra attention, trying to see if he could get both nipples into his mouth at once. Once it was clear that this would not work, he sucked hard on the underside of one, then pulled back to admire his handywork. He gave her a smirk. “I’ll know it’s there.” 

He returned his downward path, before settling between her thighs, and blew on her still sensitive cunt. She gasped, and pushed down on his head. He grinned. “I wish you could smell this, mesh’la.” He bent her head and dragged his tongue through her slit. She gave a gasping little cry, and he hooked one leg, then the other over his shoulders so he could get the best angle.

And it felt like he worked for hours- time stopped having meaning. He would tease, and torment her already sensitive clit, and fuck her with his tongue while she thrashed and moaned. Then he slid one, two, and then three fingers in, while sucking. Her moans got deeper, more unrestrained, until her thighs tightened around his head, and she arched into his mouth, screaming. 

He drank in the nectar from her release, and once she’d relaxed back, crawled back up, settling his hips between her legs, resting his cock on her slit. “I’m going to fuck you, now.” He said, low. His hand slid into its now customary place at the back of her skull and she shuddered. “I’m going to fuck you _so_ hard.”

She whimpered. “I think I’ll die if you don’t.” He reached down to position his cock, and surged into her, and she was so wet and ready- 

“Tight, and good- gods you feel so good on my cock, cyar’ika.” He thrust, harder and harder, and she wrapped her legs around him, urging him in, harder, deeper. He drove in like a piston, grunting, while she wrapped her arms around his back and dug her claws in, raking them up. He swore, going harder and harder, until his balls contracted and thrust one final time, letting his seed spill deep into her cunt. 

He collapsed down, the hand in her hair gripping over and over, and his face buried into her shoulder. “God,’ cyar’ika, ner LaarSenaar, that was… you’re...fucking hell.” she breathed heavily, gripping the back of his own head. 

He rolled on his back, pulling her on his chest, and tucking her head under his chin. He stroked her hair, gently, and rubbed her back in small, soothing circles. She sighed and snuggled in, gently running her fingers along the stubble on his chin. Safe, warm, held, utterly languid. Relaxed. _Safe_.

He kissed the top of her head. “What’s your name, ner cyar’ika?”

“...what?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He grabbed her hands and tugged. “Come to bed.” 
> 
> She raised an eyebrow. “Too early for sleep.”
> 
> What happens after the fade to black at the end of Chapter 3 of Sha'kajir.

“I said what I said, cyar’ika.”

“I need a shower.” Teryn had done a cursory sponge bath when they’d landed, but really wanted to be actually clean- a fucking luxury. 

Cuan grinned. “So do I. And we have plenty of water here.” 

She gave him a narrow look, and he smirked. “My rooms have a full refresher.” He glanced at her bed. “And my bed is way more comfortable than that.” 

She rolled her eyes. He was right, the smug asshole. 

  
  


Once in his rooms, they didn’t talk at all. She started to work on her own armor, and he stopped her, and removed one pauldron. Then he stopped, and waited for her to remove one of his. They alternated, piece by piece, with teasing touches and utter silence, until all their armor and clothing had been strewn about- those first pieces had been neatly put down, but things had gotten more frenetic.

Once they were both naked, she reached out and lightly stroked his abs, then let her hand drift down to his hard and straining cock. He growled, and she tightened her fist around it, giving him a wicked smile. 

“Not yet, mesh’la.” He took both wrists in one hand and led her into the refresher, and turned on the water. “First things, first.” 

He turned her around so he stood behind her and started to unpick her braids, pulling out the plaits until it all was a loose curtain. He loved her hair- most people in his covert had short hair simply because it was easier under a helmet- you could just slap on your bucket and go. But this mass that went down past Teryn’s waist when loose was fucking glorious. 

He dug his fingers in at the roots and massaged her scalp briefly, and she closed her eyes and made a silent moan. He ran his hands down the length of it, getting snagged on tangles. He nudged her into the refresher- it was large, fortunately, enough space for both of them comfortably- and he started working shampoo into her hair. 

“You’re good at this.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t dead before I met you.” 

She chuckled and then groaned in pleasure and he massaged her scalp and the base of her skull in earnest. “Gods, if you just did this I’d be a happy woman.” 

“We’re not doing just this, but,” he nipped the join of her neck and shoulder, “good to know.”

He worked on rinsing out her hair, each stroke ending with a teasing brush against her hips, or fingertips down her back, or even a little pinch, just to make sure she was paying attention. 

When he reached for a washcloth, she stopped him. “Turn around.” 

She put shampoo in his own hair- healer’s hands are strong, and know where the hidden tension spots are, and how to dig on them just right, and he moaned as her fingernails dug into his scalp. “I wasn’t dead before I met you, either.” He was taller than her, not by much, but it still made the angle difficult.

With a smirk, he turned and knelt down in front of her, and gave little nipping kisses on her belly and then gently  _ bit _ her mound. She gasped out a squeak and he laughed. She smacked him lightly. “Focus.”

“I am focusing.” He picked up the washcloth again, and still kneeling, scrubbed her legs and feet, and then stood, and dragged the washcloth along her arms, her shoulders, the back of her neck. 

He stopped smirking, and brought it down between her breasts, and then circled one. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. “No, mesh’la. Look at me.” She opened her eyes again and had to grab his elbow for balance. He held her gaze as he slowly, thoroughly washed one breast, then the other as she gave tiny shuddering gasps.

“Turn around.”

A flicker of uncertainty raced across her face, but she did. He moved the wet mass of hair over one shoulder to bare her back, and he fisted one hand at the sight of the scars on her back- they would always be there, a reminder of some of the things she’d endured, and the sight of them would probably always fill him with rage. He began to scrub her back, neither following the scars, or avoiding them. She tensed slightly as he started- she was sensitive about them- but relaxed almost immediately. He’d never given her a reason to try to keep him from looking at them, and he never intended to. 

She was more than just the scars. 

He scrubbed her entire back, then pulled her back against his chest, so he could reach between her legs to wash her cunt. His free arm snaked around her waist, and he held her firmly in place while his fingers slipped into her folds and started playing- circling her clit and squeezing and pinching and….

“Fuck….”

“In a minute.”

She put her hand on his and stopped his playing. “Mmmhmmm. No. Your turn.” 

He bit her ear and swiped his tongue around the curve. She pulled the washcloth from his hand and turned around, still held against his chest. She soaped up the washcloth and scrubbed his own chest, and abs, and after backing up out of his arms, let the washcloth only barely brush against his cock. 

He hissed and looked at her reproachfully. She smirked. He scowled darkly. “You’re going to regret that.”

“I’m counting on it.” She smirked again. “You turn around.” 

He paused for just long enough for her to think that maybe she was playing with a bit more fire than expected. Then he turned around. His own back had a tracing of scars- training mishaps, some fights that went… well, he won, in the end. She scrubbed with vigor and then took a deep breath- it was easier to try this where he couldn’t see. Maybe if she was the one in control, she could actually use her mouth...

She stepped forward, and considered his shoulder for a second, and then leaned forward kiss it- 

And no. She pulled back, inhaling. No, that wasn’t going to work. It was too close. 

At her inhalation, he turned around and cupped the back of her head with his hands, looking at her face. Her lips had gone pale. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, I just… I wanted to see if.. It’s okay. I’m sorry.” 

He bent her head down and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t apologize, cyar’ika.” She gripped his arms and they stood in the pouring water for a minute, just breathing, until she looked back at him. 

“Turn back around. I wasn’t done.” At her command, his eyes darkened, and he stroked a lock of her hair from roots to ends. “Turn. Around.” She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around and she started to wash his back, up in the back of his neck again, and then, experimentally, dug in with her nails. 

He groaned in pleasure and she vigorously scratched his back up and down his spine. 

“Mesh’la….”

“Shush.” She snaked a hand around his hip and took a hold of his cock and he hissed again. “You’d think this thing has had no attention in a while.” 

“It’s been  _ days _ , cyar’ika.” 

“Mmmmm.” She slowly began to stroke it with just her fingertips, lightly. He groaned in frustration, and grabbed her wrist to try to get her to increase the pressure. She let her fingers just relax. “Shush.” 

With a growl he turned around and put her towards the wall. “Face it.” She looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and slowly turned around and faced the wall. “Both hands on the wall.” She swallowed, and obeyed. He stepped behind her, cock brushing against her ass and she let out a breath.

“Do not move your hands. You can make any sound you want, but do not move those hands.”

She whimpered as he ran his hands down her sides. 

“I told you that you were going to regret being a tease. It’ll be fun to hear what song you sing for me now, LaarSenaar.” 

He began to position her- nudging her hips back, tapping her ankles to spread them, and then hollowing her back out, just a bit. “Yes, like that.” He kneaded her ass, just a bit, and one hand slipped down the wall a fraction. He gave her ass a light slap. “Hands.” She made a mewling gasp, but moved the hand back. 

He smiled. “Good.” 

He positioned his cock at her entrance, and slowly,  _ slowly _ pushed in. He stopped with just the tip inside her and didn’t move, keeping his hands on her hips, lightly gripping. She began to squirm. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“Gedet’ye… ori.”  _ Please. More. _

He pushed in another inch, then dragged back, and she made gasping whine. He gripped her hips more tightly, and then pushed in, maddeningly slow, until he was fully seated into her. He dragged his fingers along the creases in front of her hips, but remained still. 

She experimentally squeezed around him, and he made a small gasp. She tried to roll her hips to get friction, movement, gods, anything, but he grabbed her hips and held her still. He would drag himself in and out, not settling into any rhythm other than slow, and being so gentle that the pleasure was such an incremental build that it drove her to the edge of madness. 

She whimpered. She whined. She begged, made tiny cries when he adjusted his angle just a tiny bit and he brushed lightly on the bundle of nerves in her channel. He stroked everywhere he could reach except the point she needed him to touch her, desperately. Every time she got too wiggly, he grabbed her hips and made her stop, all the while keeping up the maddening slow, rhythmless pace. 

“Gods, would you please JUST…”

“Shhhhh….” At the point that she was certain she could not take it anymore, he picked up the pace incrementally, and his fingers, his clever fucking fingers finally dipped down and circled around her clit. 

She let out a moan. “Yes, please… please…” He pinched and rubbed at her center and finally,  _ finally _ she exploded in pleasure, grabbing his cock and dragging him in, and the moan erupted from her diaphragm all the way up through her throat and echoed around the refresher. 

“That was the note I wanted.” He thrust in earnest, hard, and fast, chasing the end of her orgasm into a second one, and she keened. He bellowed as his cock began to jerk and pump, and he pumped hard and fast. He fell forward and bit the juncture of her neck and shoulder as the last of him emptied into her. 

They stood, both trembling, as the cooling water poured down on them. He had one arm around her waist, the other up in front of her shoulder. She let one hand slip from the wall and gripped his hand at her waist, and they held on as if the other one was the only solid thing in the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One could legitimately ask why these aren't in the main fic, and one of the answers is these take WAY longer to write than the non-smut.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fade-to-black from Chapter 13 of Sha'kajir- the good-bye banging.

Teryn’s voice was shot after recording every song she could think of for two days, and there was nothing to say. She had come back to their rooms after doing her last check on Lathorm, and had taken off most of her armor, and he came in after getting the last of his gear together. 

“When do you leave?” she asked, hoarsely.

“Before dawn.” 

They looked at each other, just looked for ages, trying to memorize each other’s faces.  _ It won’t be long.  _ They were both Mandalorians. They knew better.

She moved first, hesitantly, as if moving would break the moment. His arms caught her at the hips, as she let one hand carefully trace his face. He closed his eyes and let her, and when her fingertips traced his mouth, he caught them and sucked. She let out a little gasp, and he smiled.

She started to remove his armor, piece by piece, and put each piece away. He saw right away what she was doing- by making sure everything was put away and ready for the morning, he wouldn’t have to spend any more of their precious time together dealing with his gear than was absolutely necessary. 

And second… it was hot as fuck. 

Each piece of armor. His weapons. His belt and holsters. The gambeson. The undergear. Spreading her hands across his bare chest and tracing the outline of his lothwolf tattoo. He stroked the column of her throat and growled. She traced his mouth again with her fingers, and sank to her knees in front him. 

He swallowed, hard. 

She silently worked off his boots, and smiled up at him when she saw that he was, in fact, wearing the socks she had bought him. He smiled down and stroked the top of her head. She set the boots aside, removed his socks, and after the briefest hesitation, undid his pants. 

His fingers tightened in her hair as she pulled his pants down. He silently picked up one foot, then the other, and she tossed the pants to the side. She ran her hands up the sides of his legs and paused at his hips. She looked at his erect cock, then back up at him. 

They held each other’s gaze, the only movement either made was tiny strokes with their fingertips. Finally she slowly stroked down the crease of his hip to his cock, and wrapped her hand around it. 

He made a pained sound in the back of his throat as she stroked up his length once, then twice. At his root she paused, and then carefully cupped his balls and teased them, rolling them around in her hand. 

He groaned. “...tease…” 

She flashed a grin, and dragged her hand back up his length to the tip, where the pre-come had gathered. She ran her fingers through the wetness covering the tip of his cock, and then, staring fixedly at him, placed the wet fingers in her mouth and sucked. 

“Fuck…”  He hauled her up to standing by the arm and fastened his mouth on the most sensitive spot of her neck, just below the ear, and sucked until she whimpered. “Fucking tease me…” 

He ripped at her shirt and let go of her neck only just long enough to pull it over her head, then did the same with the breastband. He turned her around so she face the sleeping chamber and pushed her towards it, still kissing and nipping at the back of her neck. 

He nodded at the bed. “Hands and knees.” She turned back to look at him and he flashed a grin with all of his teeth. “Hands. And Knees.” 

She paused just long enough to make him growl, and then obeyed, trembling slightly. He admired the view as he pulled down her own pants, stroking her ass and legs and she whimpered. 

“Are you ready for me, LaarSenaar?” He dragged his fingers into her slit and growled again, pleased. “You are, aren’t you.” 

He positioned himself behind her and entered, inch by inch, while she whimpered. He thrust a few times, then took her firmly and the waist and pulled her with him while he knelt back. 

They held still, her clutched to his chest, full seated on his cock. After several minutes, letting their heart beat at the same time, she experimentally lifted herself slightly and sank back down. 

He moaned, and turned his attention back to her neck, while one hand began molding and kneading her breasts. She reached up behind her and thread one hand into his hair- he’d gotten it cut in preparation for leaving. 

She continued to raise herself up, and he met with thrusts of his own. He grabbed her other hand and dragged it down her body down to where they were joined, and spread their fingers so they were on either side of his cock. “Feel that. Feel me. Feel _us.”_

She keened again as he brushed her clit, and started to move harder and faster. He thrust back, and she arched back against him. “Gods, please, please….”

“Please what?”

“I need… I want…” 

“You want to feel me in you? You want to feel me mark you?” He stopped moving as he felt her about to crest the peak, wanting to feel every spasm and flutter as she came. 

“Yes, please, stars- fuck…” She shrieked as her orgasm hit, head flung back over his shoulder. He bit down on her neck, then sucked hard. As her spasms subsided, and she sagged boneless against him, he resumed his thrusts, hard, and fast.

“Want you to feel me while I’m gone. Think about me. What I do to you.” 

“Yes, please, yes…” She fell forward on to her elbows and he gripped her hips as he drove himself forward into his own release, and collapsed on top of her.

They lay there, panting as his cock softened inside of her. “I’m crushing you.” He shifted to roll off of her. 

“Don’t you dare move,” she mumbled. He chuckled, and pressed a kiss to her back, where the scars weren’t.

After their heartrates had slowed, and the sweat had begun to dry, she squirmed enough to get him to lift up enough so she could roll over. He held himself up so he could look down, and she gave him a smile that was designed to hide any anxiety.

He wasn’t entirely fooled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fade to black from Chapter 19 of Sha'kajir. The homecoming smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations:
> 
> LaarSenaar: Songbird  
> Mesh'la: Beautiful   
> Ner: My  
> Ruus: Rock.  
> Sheb: Ass  
> Cyare: beloved  
> senaar'ika: Little bird  
> yaim’la: comfortable, familiar, sense of *at home*. Can also mean local to the speaker.

Teryn watched him walk towards the Samaki forge, sighing to herself that his cape did get in the way of admiring the rear view. She turned back to their quarters, trying to walk casually. No need to advertise that she planned to pounce on him as soon as he walked in the door. 

She was pretty sure people already knew that, but there was no need to  _ advertise _ it. 

She had just opened the door when a hand grabbed her arm and propelled her inside. “Fuck reporting,” Cuan growled, still wearing his helmet. He pulled at the buckle on her battle skirt and it fell to the floor even before she hit the control for the door. 

She turned around and immediately started unbuckling his belt. “Thank the stars.” She flung the belt away as he worked on her own pants. “Hurry, please…”

He got her pants open and growled at the leggings underneath. He grabbed the waistband and tore them down the seam, and she gasped. He pushed her back to a table near the door- it was the perfect height- and lifted her onto it. “Yes, yes…” she muttered as she went after the fastening on his pants. 

He wrapped one braid around his fist when she finally -finally- got his cock free. He stepped forward between her spread legs and his blunt tip nudged its way into her wet, slippery slit. He growled again, pleased. “Now?”

“Now, please…” she moaned, and he thrust. 

They froze, panting, and she traced the visor of his helmet with her fingers. He started to thrust, every intention of starting slow and gentle, but within the first few he began to pound. She hooked her legs around him to pull him in further. 

Teryn had a vague thought about hoping the table could withstand the onslaught, but then he fully seated himself and rolled his hips, and her eyes rolled back. The orgasm was sudden, unexpected, and her legs tightened around him even further. 

He grunted and thrust harder, and she tried to get a grip on anything- him, his armor, her sanity- before finally wrapping an arm around his helmet as he put his head toward the wall over her shoulder to get the most leverage he could. 

_ I’m going to have bruises on the inside of my thighs,  _ she thought, whimpering. His thrusts suddenly sped up and he let out a groan as he made one last, final push. 

“ _ Fuck.” _

She leaned back against the wall. “Yeah, well. That was the idea.” 

His helmeted head fell on her shoulder, and he gave a few gasping breaths. “I missed you.”

“I can tell.” She nuzzled the side of her head against his helmet. “I missed you, too. Take this off.” 

He laughed and reached up to remove his helmet, and she let out a small sigh at the sight of his face. It shouldn’t have felt like a revelation, given the number of times she’d seen him take it off, the amount of time she’d seen him without it. 

And yet, it was. It was still intensely intimate. 

She traced down his face with her fingers, and he closed his eyes, until her fingers got to his lips, and then he nipped them. She grinned, and he pressed a kiss to his favorite spot, just underneath her ear. 

“I smell… dirt? Plants?” 

“I was gardening.” She started to tug at his cowl, finally succeeding in pulling it off. 

“This might be easier if you would let go.” Her legs were still locked around his hips, holding him inside. 

“Why? Scared of a challenge?” She stuck her tongue between her teeth, grinning. 

His nostrils flared. Fighting words, as it were. She yanked off one of his pauldrons and sent it flying, and started going after his cuirass with a determination matched only by his own. Before long, all of their upper body gear was scattered in tossing distance from the table, and he ran a hand down her throat to one breast, avoiding touching the nipple. 

She leaned back, against the wall, giving little sighs as he stroked and touched, before, grinning, he ran his thumb over the hardened nipple. “You call me a tease.” 

“Turnabout is fair play, LaarSenaar.” He molded the breast and grinned as she gave a small moan. “Should we move to a more comfortable location?”

She nodded, but didn’t let go with her legs at all. With an amused sigh, he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom. At the foot of the bed he gave another long, biting kiss to the side of her neck, to make her relax her legs just enough, before tossing her down to the bed. 

She raised herself up on her elbows, and gave him a reproachful glare that turned hungry at the sight of him, shirtless and sweaty, pants slipping down his hips and only held up by his cusses. He grinned down. “See anything you like?” 

“You know I do.” She held up a leg for him to remove the greave and boot, and they laughed as the vibroblade slid out of its boot sheath onto the bed. The blades did not get thrown, but everything else did. First one leg, then the other, then he slid her pants and the ruined leggings down her legs and off. He pressed a kiss at the inside of her ankle and she giggled. “That tickles.” 

She rolled up to her knees, then tugged him down to the bed. “You have too many clothes on.” She got to work on the boots, flinging them back in her haste to get him naked. 

He saw that his cloak- the one he’d tucked around her when he left, was still in the bed. He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged. “It smelled like you. That was the whole point, wasn’t it?” 

He smiled and nodded, then grabbed her wrist and pulled so she was lying on top of him. He ran one hand up her spine, feeling the ridges of the scars there, and the other hand he ran through her hair. “Mesh’la.” 

“Ner Ruus.”

“Not yet, give me some time….” He suddenly rolled them over, grinning at her muffled gasp, and smiled as she ran her hand over his face again, and kissed her palm. They stared at each other for a long while, remembering every part of the other's face, the feel of the other’s body pressed on theirs.

The faint lines of scars- the result of Mandalorian life- traced around both of them, and he wanted to lick and kiss every one. He started at his favorite spot under her ear- it was the most sensitive, and all it took was a few licks and nips before she started to squirm under him.

It was a delightful feeling. 

He moved down to a scar that snaked across her collarbone, then another faint knife scar on her upper arm. He sucked on it, before turning his attention to her breasts. She whimpered as his scruff grazed the soft skin at the side, then gave a guttural moan as he sucked a nipple into his mouth and played his tongue over it.

She gripped his hair- it had grown enough in the three weeks he was gone that she could get a decent grip- and held him in place while his hand played with the other breast. She writhed, moaned, and pulled on his hair. He stopped and looked up. “Did you like that? I couldn’t tell.”

“Sheb.” 

He lunged up and gave a lick on the underside of her jaw before turning his attention to the other breast. After driving her back to the brink, he worked his way down, and paused at a faint, but large scar on her lower abdomen. “What happened here?” He traced it with his fingers. 

“Stabbed with vibroblade, over a year ago.”

“A year?” The scar didn’t look that recent.

“It’s a long story.”

He kissed it, gently, and snaked his way further down, until his head was between her thighs. He looked at the bruises coming up from where his armor had bit into them while they were on the table, and gently kissed each one. She looked down at him, and he gave a slow, hungry smile. “Raise yourself up on your elbows, cyare. I want to watch you come apart for me.” 

She scratched his scalp with her fingernails, and he growled in pleasure before she did as he asked, thrusting her breasts up. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, took a firm grip on her hips and blew on her mound. 

She took a deep breath, and he pressed a kiss to the very inside of her thigh, near the crease of her hip, then sucked, hard. He loved knowing that his marks were there on her body, where no one else would see them. Then he slipped his tongue into her folds. 

She’d already been wet from the first round, and his coming in her, and then the teasing, the touching, just having him there again- it didn’t take much for her to start moaning again. 

Again and again he’d bring her to the brink, then back off, worshiping her with his mouth while at the same time demanding supplication. She begged. She pleaded. She promised anything, stars, anything if he’d just…. 

Finally, he did, sucking on her clit and thrusting his fingers into her channel and watched as her entire body drew tight and taut as a drum, then exploded into toe-curling spasms as she keened. He slowly, gently pumped his fingers as she came down, back to reality, collapsed back on the bed. 

He crawled back up as she lay, panting, still twitching from aftershocks, and kissed beneath her ear again. His mouth was still coated in her slick and his come and their sweat and the smell was… intoxicating. 

“How was that?”

She mumbled something that sounded like “I don’t exist” and he chuckled, threading his fingers with hers on one hand. 

“I assure you that you do exist, mesh’la, ner cyare.” He traced the edges of the scar on her abdomen, before raising himself to his knees. His cock stood proudly again, and he tugged on her braid. “Come here, ner Senaar'ika.” She dropped her hand to his cock and stroked it, dragging the edge of a fingernail very lightly up the bottom of the shaft. He hissed, and tugged again. “Come  _ here. _ ” 

She rolled up to her knees and came towards him, a little shaky. He ran a hand down the braid he’d tugged on, and pulled her closer. She straddled his hips, holding herself over the tip of his cock. He waited, running his other hand over the swell of her hip, and finally, finally, she lowered herself onto him. 

He let out a choked gasp in a language she didn’t recognize, but swearing is recognizable in any language. “So tight… good….” She wrapped an arm around his head and started to rock her hips, slowly, just enjoying the feeling of being full of him, of touching him, of feeling his arms around her. 

He let her pull his head down, so she could rub the side of her head against his, and let her set the pace, slow, gentle, in no hurry. This was home, this was yaim’la. 

He ran his hands up and down her back, partly soothing, partly reacquainting himself with the contours of her body, all the curves and scars and dips and planes. 

Eventually, he pulled away, and used one hand to support her lower back, and wrapped both braids around his other hand to make her arch back. The position changed the angle just enough that she gasped and whimpered. 

“Harder, cyar’ika. Ride me harder.” She picked up the pace, raising herself up and coming down, rolling and rocking, until they were both dripping with sweat. He gave another growl, and pulled her back towards him, fastening his lips back on her neck, then lifted them both up to push her back on the bed. 

He drove a hard pace- he always did when he was close- and finally, raggedly let out a groan as his cock spasmed in her and he felt himself empty into her, again. He let himself fall forward, and she wrapped her arms around him. He scooted down a bit so he could put his head on her chest, listen to her heart, and let her play her fingers through his hair. 

She smiled down at him. “So… welcome home.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A soft and sweet interlude no one really expected, including me. 
> 
> (This goes in no particular place in the story. Just... at some point.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations
> 
> cyar'ika: sweetheart  
> Mesh'la: beautiful  
> Gedet'ye: please

It was irresistible, really. 

It had been a long day for both of them, and there were plans to have dinner with Tuathal, but Cuan came out of the shower to see Teryn lying on her side across the bed with her back to the door. She had a towel wrapped around her, and her wet wair was in a single long braid, baring the top of her back and neck to his view. Small droplets of water still clung to her skin. She was clearly dozing, and looked more relaxed than he usually saw her, far more relaxed than anyone else ever saw her. 

There was no resisting, not at all.

He dropped his own towel and crawled on the bed. She didn’t move, or make an indication that she noticed that he was even there, until he lightly stroked down the curve of her neck into her shoulder, and kissed the back of her neck. 

“Mmmmmmm.”

“Napping, cyar’ika?”

“Mmmm.”

He continued to kiss, lightly, down to the top of the towel between her shoulder blades, and let one hand drift down to her thigh, lightly stroking. She shifted slightly, and he brought the bottom of the towel up with his hand as he stroked up her thigh to between her legs. 

She sighed, and moved her leg forward so he could have better access. He breathed a smile into her neck, and just let the tips of his fingers tangle in the curls of her mound, lightly stroking. She let her hand drift back towards his cock, and he bit her shoulder gently.

“Let me take care of you, mesh’la.”

“You always take care of me,” she mumbled.

He nibbled on the shoulder. “It’s what I like doing.” His fingers slipped into her folds and sighed in pleasure. “You’re always so ready.”

“It’s you,” she said, biting her lip as he stroked and played as he liked to do so much. “It’s always you.” 

“I love that.” His cock nudged her ass and she squirmed a bit. He groaned as she ground against him. 

“Gedet’ye.” She whimpered. 

“Now?” he carefully shifted himself so he could enter her, the blunt tip of his cock waiting. “Is this what you want?” He lowered his voice to a quiet growl. “Tell me what you want.” 

“You,” she repeated. “I want you. It’s always you.” 

Slowly, he entered her, inch by inch until he was fully hilted. He didn’t move, loving the feel of being surrounded, and neither did she, enjoying the feel of being completely full. 

“I will never get tired of how you feel around my cock, mesh’la.” He slowly began to roll his hips, slowly and shallowly thrusting. She reached behind her to stroke his face, and he pulled her fingers into his mouth and began to suck on them in the same rhythm as his rolls. 

Her orgasm came on slowly, and was just endless gentle waves as she contracted around his shaft as she sighed and moaned softly. His pace increased only fractionally, and he wrapped an arm around her waist as his own orgasm hit, letting her fingers fall out of his mouth. 

He kissed under her ear as he came, his entire body going rigid and jerking his hips as the last wave rolled through them both. They both went limp.

She let out a contented sigh as he held her as close as he could, resting his head on hers. “I told you. It’s always you.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I only have an hour.”
> 
> “I don’t need that much time, LaarSenaar. Come here.”
> 
> Someone is barely healed from his misadventures but also cannot wait.

“I only have an hour.”

“I don’t need that much time, LaarSenaar. Come here.”

Teryn raised an eyebrow down at Cuan, who was, as instructed, still in bed. But he was naked, and at least one part of him was _not_ at rest. “You need to save your strength.”

“I want to make love to my riduur.” Cuan pouted.

“I didn’t say no. I said you need to save your strength.” She smiled, slow and sensual. “So don’t move.” His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared.

She looked down and removed a vambrace, then the other. He made a sound, and she smirked at him. “Shush.” She removed her pauldrons, setting everything down neatly, precisely. The armor was designed so that one person could get it off quickly, without fuss.

She set her cuirass down, the front and back plates, and paused to rub at a smudge. He made another impatient noise, and she shot him another narrow look. His hands were fisting in the sheets, and his face- the _yearning._

“Yes?”

“Please….”

She took pity on him and unbuckled her belt, then the battle skirt. Lifting one leg to unfasten her knee cops, she grinned at him. “I don’t even know why I bother with these at home.”

“The Way.” He grumbled. “The Way takes too fucking long. _Hurry_.”

She laughed, delighted at his grouchy pout. “Patience is a virtue, isn’t that what they say?” The other knee cop joined the first.

“They are wrong.” His hands fisted again, and his cock twitched. “Hurry. Please.” She yanked off her boots, and then the padded gambeson. He grinned at seeing her down to her pants and her undershirt. “More.” She raised an eyebrow. “Please.”

She pulled off the undershirt, and the sound he made at the sight of her breastband was gratifying. She threw it off to the side instead of putting it neatly with the rest of her gear, the only sign of tension, save a mild tremor in her fingers as she reached for the fastening of her pants.

“Cyare.”

She paused and looked at him, need and want and the tiniest bit of nerves coloring her face. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see your face.” He smiled and nodded. “Carry on.” She pushed her pants down and stepped out of them, standing in her leggings and breastband. There was some tension in her stance, and her hands fluttered a little bit. Ridiculous, given how often he’d seen her naked, how much he enjoyed the sight of her body, but… one hand drifted up to cover the knife wound scar on her abdomen.

“No, no, mesh’la, all of you.”

She reached behind to unclasp the breastband, freeing her breasts. He groaned, and she smirked. “See something you want?”

“All of it. I want all of you.” He growled again, hungrily, as she pushed down the leggings and after a pause of letting him look his fill, she crawled onto the bed. He ran a hand up her side and covered one breast. She sighed as he molded it, then put one of her hands on his to stop him.

“No. Not now.” He pouted, and she grinned, reaching for his face and giving him a feather-light stroke down his cheek, then swiping a finger at the point just below his ear. He groaned, and grabbed the back of her head and pulled her face down so he could get at the spot beneath her ear, the one he liked the most, the one that was the most sensitive. He kissed it, slowly, gently, working his fingers into her hair. She hummed in pleasure as excitement began to pool in her belly, and between her legs.

But it wasn’t time for that. Not yet.

He nibbled down along the front curve of her throat, nipping, tasting, licking, to underneath her other ear, delighting in how her breasts pushed against him as she wriggled and sighed. She opened her eyes, calculating while he couldn’t see, and dragged one hand down his side, followed the slant of the V along the front of his hip, and traced her fingertips up and down his cock.

“Osik,” he gasped, pulling away from her neck.

She grinned, and flipped one braid over her shoulder, and used the end to touch his face, then down his neck to his crest. She used it to outline the lothwolf tattoo, and paid special attention to his nipples, feathering them lightly

He reached for the braid and she laughed, low and sensual. “Shhhhhh.” She pulled away, flipped the braid back, so she could look down at him as she ran her palm over the tip of his cock to smear the pre-come. He groaned and she fisted her hand around his cock and pumped up and down.

He swore again and she grinned, keeping the pressure, but slowing the pace. “One might be fooled into thinking you like this.”

“Tease.”

“Not as much as some people I could name, ner Kurs’khaded.” She tsked sharply as he closed his eyes. “No, look at me.”

He opened his eyes, grunting as she loosened her grip and ran the back of her fingernails lightly up the bottom edge of his cock. She reversed down to the root, then cupped his balls lightly. “Are these full? Ready to claim me?”

“Always.”

“No.” She smirked and squeezed lightly and he hissed. “I’m claiming you.”

“Please.” He writhed a little. “Please, ner LaarSenaar. Please.” With a satisfied grin, she straddled his hips, carefully positioned his cock- his glorious, wonderful cock- at her entrance. She smirked as he tried to arch up.

“No, no.” she waited, poised, until he settled back down again, then lowered herself, carefully, slowly, letting out a soft moan as he filled her. She settled on his hips, squeezing his cock with her channel muscles lightly, but not moving.

“Ner Senaar’ika, you’re… gods, stars, you’re a tease.” his hands went to her hips to try to get her to move, but she settled even lower, if that was possible, and smirked again. “At some point, cyare, you’re going to regret this.”

“I doubt that.” She squeezed again, sighing. Then, only after he made another inarticulate whine, did she start to move. Slowly, softly, rolling her hips back and forth. He moaned as she gave him everything. Head thrown back, back arched, mouth open as she gave small panting gasps with each roll.

If time didn’t have meaning, if they weren’t starved for each other, they could have gone forever. But as it was, her movements got more and more urgent, her gasps becoming louder and more insistent. Finding the exact right angle and-

She exploded, arching back over toes curling in ecstacy, letting her moan erupt out. He gritted his teeth to ride out her orgasm- there was nothing he liked more than to feel her flutter and spasm around his cock. Unless it was to feel her explode against his mouth.

But that for another time. As she sagged, boneless, to catch her breath, he caught her firmly by the hips and rolled them over, so he was on top and grinned down at her squeak of surprise. He began to thrust, hard. He was so close.

She arched back again, locking her legs around his waist as his thrusts got frantic and uneven, and then one, last time, before he collapsed down.

She laughed a little, even as her fingers found the pulse point in his throat, tapping out the count with her other hand. “I told you that you needed to save your strength.”

He huffed back an exhausted laugh into the curve of her neck. “You need to get back to work.”

She smiled, one hand curling into his hair, and the other stroking the back of his neck. “And you, ner riduur, need to sleep.”

But neither could bring themselves to move. Not just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations
> 
> LaarSenaar: Songbird  
> Riduur: Spouse  
> Osik: Shit  
> Ner Kurs'khaded: My wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smut, so... but they really really have some good sex. 
> 
> Mando'a
> 
> mesh’la: Beautiful  
> Cyar'ika: Sweetheart/Darling  
> LaarSenaar: Songbird  
> Ner: my  
> Vor entye: Thank you (lit. *I accept a debt*)  
> Ke nuhoy: Go to sleep  
> Ner copaanir: I want  
> Me’copaani: What do you want  
> Ger, gedet’ye: You, please  
> Har’shaak: dammit  
> ner Senaar’ika: My little bird  
> uj’ayl: thick scented syrup used in cooking


End file.
